


Ambassador and Bodyguard

by Quiet_Shadow



Series: Summer Days Prompts [18]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Awkward Crush, Bodyguard, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 12:23:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15339813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_Shadow/pseuds/Quiet_Shadow
Summary: Megatron needs a bodyguard so long he acts as an Ambassador for Cybertron. Suffice to say, he's complaining loudly. Perhaps a bit too loudly.





	Ambassador and Bodyguard

**Author's Note:**

> I suddenly had a craving for those two characters together. Here's the result.

“This is ridiculous,” Megatron groused as he took long strides, half-hoping the mech following him would get the message and let him the Pit alone. He knew he had no chance to shake him off – that was the problem when you had a non-mobile altmode and your follower had, sadly, a vehicle mode – but he was determinate to show him just how unappreciative he was of his presence. “When have I ever needed a bodyguard?! I can rip a mech apart with my bare hands! I can blow their head off with a single shot of my fusion cannon! I am…”

“An Ambassador at the moment, and there is a protocol to adhere to, and the protocol says: ‘All Ambassador must be accompanied by a bodyguard charged with their security’,” the red mech following him drawled. “Unless you want to head back to Cybertron and tell both Optimus and Soundwave you decided to throw a hissy fit over having someone charged to watch over you?”

“I am not throwing a hissy fit!” Megatron snarled (he refused to acknowledge he was; hissy fits were Starscream’s thing, not his). “I am voicing my complaints in a perfectly justified manner! And, even if needed a bodyguard, my pick certainly wouldn’t be an old, rusting Autobot but one of my own mechs! Just leave me the Pit alone and go back to the shuttle!”

“I resent the rusting part,” the Autobot drawled again. “And no can do, Megatron, for three reasons. Number one, Optimus was very clear; I am to stick with you at all time and I never disobeyed an order of my Prime. Number two, Soundwave doesn’t trust any of your own mechs not to stab you in the back. Number three… Well, do you really think we Autobots are stupid enough to try and let two Decepticons gallivanting without a chaperone?”

That stung, especially the reasons number two and three. Number three he could easily excuse, though, because the truce was still tentative and Megatron wouldn’t have trusted two Autobots together as Ambassadors either. Optimus was too cheerful and trusting, but he wasn’t stupid. Megatron was just a little irritated that the Prime didn’t believe him able to make a straight bid for the good of Cybertron, without an agenda (there wasn’t one to pull, anyway, not with that species). As for Soundwave’s concerns… He had to admit they weren’t exactly unfounded, nowadays the Decepticons were really polarized in two sub factions, one led by him and the other by Starscream and people deciding to support the first one day would be supporting the second the next. Perfect loyalty was hard to come by those solar cycles, he thought, just as trust was. It told him quite a lot that Soundwave preferred to known him in the company of an Autobot than backed up by any of their own.

The Pit if he admitted it, though.

“And I suppose Soundwave trusts you, Ironhide?” he growled.

“More than he trusts your riff-raff,” the old red mech shrugged. “Being Prime bodyguard since the start of the war and keeping both my charge and I alive must be a Pit of credential for him, eh?”

Megatron grunted. Alright, it was, especially given the number of times he (and Starscream, because Starscream also made plans) had sent an assassin after the Prime only for them to fail thank to the security around Optimus; the number was somewhere in the triple digits. Prime’s bodyguard had even sent a few of them back – in pieces, with a bow to tie them up together and a note with a kiss. Those had always simultaneously both enraged Megatron… and turned him on like a last frame Youngling.

What could he said? Megatron had always had a thing for dangerous mech with a dark sense of humor (which explained a lot of things about Starscream, come to think, such as why he let him live). Slag, but he had had some vivid recharge flux, thinking about Prime’s bodyguard and how sexy the old mech as looked as he shot a mech through the throat, smirk on his lips as he shifted those hips… Frag, how often he had woken up dazedly after imagining being taken down by that mech and thrown on his back and… _ravished_ by an experienced mech able to grapple with him and make him _stay down_ …

Ugh. No. Not the right moment to indulge into daydreaming, not at all. He hadn’t had a dream about Ironhide in stellar cycle – mostly because he had been relieving any and all tension with Starscream before their relationship soured again.

Okay, perhaps he had called the wrong name while he was fragging the Seeker, but that didn’t mean he was still thinking about the red mech supposed to have his back, right? Right?

… Slag, his drawl sounded perfect, and he had just the right cocky attitude the grey mech liked, too!

Megatron wondered suddenly if his security was the only thing Soundwave had been thinking about when he had recommended Ironhide; his Communication Officer had always thought he could do with a good frag, preferably with someone who wasn’t going to stab his Spark once they were done. And he certainly WAS aware of Megatron’s passing interest and fantasies…

“Slag,” he muttered, feeling like facepalming. It was a setup. A fragging setup – pun not intended. The moment he was back on Cybertron, he was going to throttle the life out of Soundwave – and possibly Optimus as well, just to be sure the Prime wasn’t acting conjointly with Soundwave to attempt to get him laid.

“Problem?” Ironhide asked, looking at him with a frown. Did he know? Megatron hoped he didn’t.

Megatron made a vague gesture and mumbled something before turning away and resuming his long strides. Doomed. He was doomed – not by enemy fire, but because of his own libido. Too much time in Ironhide’s presence and he was going to say or do something stupid and then the old mech would probably pounce on him… Primus, yes! No, no, actually, Primus no!  
“… about those bodyguard duties… I don’t suppose you’ll recharge in another room?”

“Nope,” Ironhide confirmed cheerfully and if he found the question weird, he didn’t show it. “I always recharge with my charges. Not sure they got the memo before we left, though, so perhaps you’ll have to put up with sharing a berth with me. Think you can survive it?”

Survive it? Oh yes, Megatron thought. Definitively.

His dignity? Now, that might be dying a slow, painful death if the red mech pressed too close to him during the night.


End file.
